


your heart and mine

by lilabut



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Between Seasons/Series, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 10:50:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6235759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilabut/pseuds/lilabut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Carol, stuck in their car when a storm ends their supply run. Set during the prison arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your heart and mine

Daryl does not remember why he ever agreed to take Carol on this run with him in the first place. Or why there are stray splotches of blood covering her pale face. Or why he did not just keep driving through the downpour instead of parking the car at the side of the muddy road.

 

More importantly, he has no clue why his pants are pulled down mid-thigh, and when exactly Carol curled her cool, slender, delicate fingers around his length. There's no way he has ever been this hard in his entire life, and he wishes there was something coherent for him to say or do. Instead, he just bucks his hips up into her touch with little finesse.

 

Carol smiles against the side of his neck where his pulse thrums rapidly, her lips pressing a bit harder, more insistently, and a grunt erupts from his chest. Fingers dig into the leather seat beneath him when he watches her, watches the way she strokes him slowly, follows her other hand as she pops open the button on her pants and slides the zipper down.

 

Tears prickle in his eyes because it's all too much.

 

_Relax_ , she whispers against his throat, sending shivers down his spine, and suddenly her hand abandons her own pants, reaching up to cup his cheek instead. She's forceful when she turns his head towards her.

 

Big blue eyes as open as the sky look up at him, a smile dancing on her lips when she speaks again, just a breathy whisper. _It's okay_. Her cheeks are just as flushed as his own, and her fingers quiver around him, sending a new jolt of pleasure up his spine.

 

To hell with it all, he thinks. She has her hand curled around him, her pants undone, and so much kindness and want in her eyes that he fears the tears might really break free.

 

He kisses her then, drawing a yelp from her when he nearly misses her lips. The mistake is easily corrected, her sigh against his lips almost impossible to bear.

 

When she slips into his lap, the cradle of her thighs the best damn thing in the world, Daryl breaks the kiss, feeling proud of himself when she fucking _whines_ in response. This has to be some cruel dream, he thinks when he licks down the valley of her throat, nips at the salty skin of her collarbone. It is the kind of dream that wakes him up in the dead of night with sweat covering his skin, all alone in the damn prison cell.

 

Her hand reaches for his, fingers slipping in between his, and then she presses their joined hands between her breasts. Her racing heart is a match for his own, the soft swell of her breasts beneath the palm of his hand. _It's okay._

 

Yeah. Definitely a dream.

**Author's Note:**

> I got bored on Sunday morning, and this is what happened.


End file.
